


Too Late

by Sunshine_and_Seashells



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Featuring, M/M, N'zoths fanfiction AU, also this is dedicated to tinycrown and underscoremax, both of whom recently made me cry with their own fanfics, hes just a paladin standing in front of his king wanting to help, suffer well you two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_and_Seashells/pseuds/Sunshine_and_Seashells
Summary: N'zoth is free and his tendrils are finding their ways into people's dreams. Even the King of Stormwind is unable to escape. What does he see?(Takes place shortly before 8.3, tldr: Anduin has anxiety and N'zoth exploits his fear of failure, cheers!)
Relationships: Arator the Redeemer/Anduin Wrynn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally coughed and got angst all over the place  
> Oh well.  
> You can also blame tinycrown and underscoremax for this  
> This writing would have forever remained in my WiPs if they hadn't made Anduin sad.

Anduin couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

What had happened to his city?

The sky was a sickening shade of violet and shadows. Strikes of red lighting would dart from cloud to cloud as giant worms with gaping maws moved lazily through the air. Stormwind had been named for the constant breeze and violent gales that swept through the city but now…the breeze was deathly calm. The stench of decay clung to the city and few people dare walk the streets.

Anduin was one of those brave souls. He did not know how this happened, but he walked in search of any answer he could find. As he did, a sensation began to grow deep within his bones. Fear gnawed at him but he could not decipher what exactly was causing him such anxiety. He kept walking and, with every step deeper into the city, it kept growing.

At any moment he expected something or someone to jump from the shadows but they stayed away. Still watching, but quiet for the time being. Cautiously, Anduin made his way through the city and to the Cathedral District. It was where he felt most comfortable. The sun always shined upon the spires, and the warmth of the people within the marble walls always eased him. Once he turned the corner and noticed that even the cathedral was drowned in darkness, his anxiety reached a peak and the shadows started laughing at him.

_You’re too late._

Too late? Too late for _what_? No, he couldn’t be. There had to be a way to stop this, to make everything right and save his people; but the more he argued that the scene before him was preventable, the more it kept laughing at how foolish he was to deny the truth. The lack of breeze was becoming suffocating. Anduin’s chest grew tight from the humid air that tasted of copper. He had to find someone to help him. Surely there was someone that could stop this!

The people around him were unlikely to be helpful, sadly. Most of those shuffling down the streets had their faces down and walked as though the only force moving them forward were invisible strings. They shuffled along, lacking any joy or comprehension upon their faces.

He took a step towards the cathedral and there, across the courtyard and turning the corner, was the answer he sought.

Standing in stark contrast to the purple stones and sky was a paladin. Not just any paladin, but Anduin’s love, Arator. His confidant and kindred spirit. Arator was the man Anduin went to when his spirit was low, thoughts clouded, and faith wavering. Even when times felt darkest, like now when the sun was choked out by plum clouds, Arator was there to pull Anduin out. A beacon of Light in the darkest dark.

Especially now; with the world around him slithering and deadly, Arator stood as golden and radiant as ever. With him by his side, Anduin knew they would fix this. He would know wh-

**You’re too late.**

It was louder this time and Anduin felt his heart being squeezed. Following Arator was his mother, Alleria. While Arator remained as bright as he usually appeared, Alleria looked more comfortable in the shadows. They seemed to increase in her presence and lick at her heels. Around them, people stopped and turned to watch the two Windrunners near the Cathedral.

**_Too late._ **

NO! “Arator!” Anduin called out. What was going on? He wasn’t too late, he couldn’t be. The shadows were lying!

The paladin heard, turned to Anduin, and smiled. His smile radiated warmth and welcome and, for a second, Anduin was sure that the shadows were wrong. Surely nothing bad could happen with that smile around, right? It was that same smile that had saved Anduin. Arator's perpetually sunny disposition and hopeful outlook shone through even when times felt darkest; that optimism was there to pull Anduin back to his feet.

Without meaning to, Anduin had found within the Redeemer a friend and spark of his own optimism. While a King had many types of people in their arsenal: Advisors, Commanders, Wise men and Knights; friends were few and far in between. It was one of the reasons he missed Wrathion so much. Those days in Pandaria felt like the first time he wasn’t a prince and instead someone’s equal. They had been opposites in ways, too familiar in others, and it’s why they could stay awake until the sun rose just talking to each other. Then Wrathion left, and his long wait for another soul he could trust began. **If** he could trust again. Which he did...and that's why he had to save him.

Arator waved at Anduin but…he didn’t stop. Instead he entered the Cathedral, his mother following behind him, and Anduin heard the laughing again.

_No, no, no!_

Fear had seeded itself deep in his chest. He ran, trying to catch up to mother and son, but just as the shadows had promised…he was too late. Anduin made it to the entrance just to hear Arator scream pierce the still air.

“MOTHER, STOP!”

It echoed along the marble and Anduin turned the corners to make it into the main hall only to be forced to watch the horror unfold before him. _Too late, too late, too late._

Alleria was now consumed by shadows and they were listening to her will. Tendrils of pure void had a hold of Arator and were lifting him high above the altar. Anduin felt sick…this wasn’t right. The Cathedral was a place of love and light. A place Arator and he went for quiet prayers and hidden kisses. Now Arator’s eyes were full of fear and, upon noticing Anduin, he shouted.

“Anduin! ANDUIN, HELP ME!” He sounded so scared, more scared than Anduin could ever recall. The priest stepped closer, determined to save his love, but void wrapped around his ankles to root him in place. More fear-fueled cries as Arator realized there was no one to save him.

“Mother, please! Don’t do this!”

Anduin didn’t hear Alleria’s response to her son. All he could focus on was Arator…and the large eye above the paladin that was observing the scene play out. Arator was being raised to it and Anduin was helpless to stop it. He would have rather died than witness this…than hear the next bloodcurdling scream that left Arator as the Old God wrapped his tendrils around the one Anduin loved and consumed him.

Anduin was alone now. More alone than he had felt in years. He had been too late…and the shadows reveled as the priest lost faith. He had been too late…he had failed.

_Failure failure **failure**_

There was no denying it this time. The whispers were right.

“No…”

**Failure, failure, _failure_.**

“NO! ARATOR!”

“Anduin?” Hands came from behind and grasped him, dragging him from the Cathedral before plunging his world into darkness. He had failed…N’zoth…N’zoth had taken Arator. The shadows were right…he had been too late.

“Sweetie, are you okay?”

It was still so dark he couldn’t see much, but Anduin's eyes blinked and eventually adjusted to the low lighting. In the darkness, he noticed two golden eyes that glowed. He would recognize those eyes anywhere.

“Arator?” He was here? But…N’zoth had…Anduin had failed…

“I’m right here, dear. Did you have a nightmare?”

Did he? Arator was here so the logical answer was ‘yes’. He had had a nightmare…it was as simple as that. But he could still feel the shadows holding onto his ankles. His ears were still ringing from his lover's screams. The insistency that he was too late and a failure remained in his heart and the fears festered beneath his skin. Was it really a nightmare? It didn’t feel like it. Anduin had had prophetic dreams before and this one…it felt too real to **not** come to pass.

He wanted to tell Arator, Yes, it was just a nightmare. Let’s go back to sleep. But he was awake now as dread continued to pulse through him. He didn’t want to tell Arator about his dream, didn’t want to worry him, but his silence was achieving that all on its own.

“Anduin?” Arator leaned in and took one of his King's hands. Fingers weaved with his then squeezed. “Are you okay?” 

Anduin couldn't respond...he knew his voice would betray him. Instead, he leaned in to kiss the other man and, in the process, tried to push the fear of losing him away. There was nothing he would refrain from doing to make sure his nightmare remained simply a horrible dream. He had to, for the only other option was to lose Arator and Anduin knew he would be lost without him. The kiss finally ended, Anduin knowing he had to leave soon or else his love would see the tears in his eyes and then…then Arator would be unable to go to sleep, and Anduin didn’t want to be responsible for that.

“Everything is fine, my love. I’m sorry I woke you. I must go speak with the Spymaster real quick. Go back to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.” His words were tender, loving, and said with such conviction that the paladin believed him…and Anduin almost felt bad for it. Their fingers remained entwined even as Arator placed his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

Though the paladin relaxed, his hold upon Anduin's hand remained firm. He seemed to know that if he fell back asleep, Anduin might leave…which he definitely was planning to so this provided a predicament. If he pulled away now, Arator would try to stop him. The King laid beside his Champion and started to softly sing to the drowsy paladin.

The words were Thalassian, what few Anduin had learned to speak. The song taught to him by Arator himself during nights similar to this…though normally it was Arator who was the one stroking the other man's hair and doing the singing. Anduin had found many good nights rests in his Champions arms, surrounded by the scent of citrus and the sound of Arator's voice. It was apparently a common song among the Quel’dorei and one Arators family had sung to him on many occasions when he was younger. A song that even Sylvanas had sung to ease her favorite nephew to sleep. Anduin was forever grateful that he had been graced with the gift of Arators singing and voice, as well as a piece of his heritage. Elven songs were also so beautiful.

“ _Anar’alah…anar’alah…belore…quel’dorei. Shindu fallah na, quel’dorei_.” Anduin was the first to confess that his singing voice and pronunciation were not quite as elegant as Arator’s but it was a fact that he had accepted. Despite Anduin's perceived shortcomings, Arator seemed to be enjoying it. He began to smile and then quickly drifted off; his hand soon relaxing enough for Anduin to pull away. Once he was sure Arator was deep asleep, Anduin leaned in to kiss the paladin on the cheek and softly whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Then quietly left the room.

The halls of his keep were quiet. Even the two guards at his chamber door seemed more statue than alive. Anduin began to make his way through the halls, both guards moving to follow him, but he halted them with the wave of his hand.

“No, stay here. Make sure no one disturbs his rest.” _Protect him instead_.

Without a word they obliged and stayed there. Anduin slipped down the halls and tried to shake the fear from his heart. Awaking had cleared his mind yet he remained tired. This was not the first time this particular tablaeu had ruined his sleep. This nightmare was a hated friend whose repetition caused him to work. He had talked to his lover about them before, as well.

The nightmares were his failures taunting him, again and again. N’zoth picking on the one weakness the young King had.

Anduin had talked to his lover about them before, as well.

That’s what scared him so much right now, in this moment. He had found Arator, a kindred spirit, close confidant, someone who was willing to notice the shadows around Anduin and not turn away. No, Arator had embraced Anduin; shadows and all, but had he found this remarkable man, had he fallen in love with Arator, just to inevitably lose him?

His past failures were trying to lead him to believe that he would. That Anduin would once again make the wrong choices, for the right reasons, and it would cost him someone irreplaceable. The fear caused his thoughts to halt, bravery to waver, and anxiety to bloom.

What would Arator say? That it’s just a dream. That he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. He would try to help Anduin find something to hold onto, something he was certain of to focus on that would anchor him through the dark…but that anchor was Arator, and if Anduin lost him…

He would be lost drifting in an ocean with no sunshine. The darkness beneath him, and darkness above.

But it was just a dream. Just a horrible dream.

**You’re too late.**

Simply taunts…N’zoth trying to eat away at his mind.

He had to see Shaw. There had to be something they could do about N’zoth. He wasn’t sure if his spymaster could even find an Old God but he had to try something.

This time, he refused to be too late. Light help him if he was.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's typos or too many commas, I'm sorry.  
> Hope you suffered well.


End file.
